Sheelagh Kelly - The Keepsake

‘And unnecessary,’ Marty added, observing her perfect form.

Unselfconscious in her nakedness, she bent to examine her legs and frowned at the red blotches that had sprung up overnight. ‘There must be a midge in here, I’m bitten to death.’

Marty chose not to correct her, merely nodded and scratched at his own flea bites, then finally emerged from the water and began to dry himself.

Stepping into the crumpled underwear she had worn in bed, Etta said she would have to purchase more. There were also other indispensable items she was missing, such as a hairbrush. ‘It’s fortunate I was wearing this yesterday.’ She held up the gold locket and chain that lay on the table. ‘I should be able to acquire several items in exchange for it.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t have you sell that!’ Anxious not to detract from his bride’s aristocratic appearance, Marty tied the towel around himself and went to fasten the chain around her neck.

Etta acquiesced with a smile and continued her toilet whilst he went to dress. Still unable to take his eyes off her, he studied the way she was sitting now in her rumpled bodice and drawers, hair about shoulders, a golden locket around her neck, one leg spread, the other raised on the edge of the bed whilst she picked at a jagged toenail, more like a scene from a bordello – not that he had ever been in one – and he thought how marvellous she was to remain genteel whilst being so sexually alluring and down to earth at the same time.

She turned to her hair, for now using his comb, but seeing how badly this coped with her severely tangled locks and pitying her, Marty said he would go to the shop to get those items necessary to her wellbeing.

‘Apart from the drawers,’ he said cheekily as he breathed on the brass buttons of his uniform and gave them a rub with his cuff. ‘I wouldn’t know what size and I’m not asking for those even for you.’ He donned the coat. ‘There, am I good enough for a wedding?’

‘Good enough to eat!’ Etta provided the money but showed reluctance to let him go, dragging him back to kiss him more than once, both of them groaning at the separation.

In his absence, Etta was to rack her brain as to how she could acquire a hat without actually paying for it. Only able to afford the common or garden variety, she rebelled against sullying her head with one of those. By the time Marty returned she had her plan. Under her direction, whilst she held the curls in place, he helped to insert her pins so that with such splendidly combined effort her hairstyle was not so unrecognisable from the one normally completed by her maid. Finally, checking both their appearances, she took Marty’s arm, voicing her intention to purchase the hat on their way to the register office and announcing gaily, ‘Let us be wed!’

A clock in town informed them that they had emerged far too prematurely, but with Etta intent on dragging him to every milliner in York this was just as well. Trying to be diplomatic, Etta said that he would be much too bored watching her try on hats and should wait outside if he preferred, in truth knowing that his bruised and lowly appearance would hinder her deception. Glad that she did not want him to accompany her inside, Marty sought out a patch of shade provided by a church spire. This was to be re-enacted at various other shops, waiting and wilting, his heart sinking every time she emerged empty-handed, worrying that a member of his family might spot him, until Etta eventually tried on a hat she approved.

‘Hallelujah!’ he declared, half laughing, half exasperated.

‘You could say you like it.’ She was rather hurt and cross, having taken so much trouble.

‘It’s grand,’ he was quick to say of the veiled and flowered creation. It worried him that she saw fit to squander what little they had on such frippery, but he would not have hurt her for the world. ‘Looks expensive.’

‘Only the best for my wedding day.’ She tilted the brim coquettishly to display silk roses and violets. ‘Doesn’t it go well with this dress? Thank goodness I was wearing one of my better ones when you rescued me.’ She laughed at his obvious dismay. ‘Don’t panic, I didn’t pay a sou. Aren’t I clever?’

His jaw dropped – surely she had not stolen it?

Etta spoke conspiratorially, her glittering eyes lauding her own acumen. ‘I explained my predicament to the milliner, told her how a wretched bird had defiled my own hat whilst I was on my way to a most important engagement – my maid found it simply impossible to remove that dreadful stain! I equipped them with my identity and told them to send the bill to Swanford Hall –’

‘Etta!’

‘– and to send a number of other hats on approval as they were all so delightful that I could not decide which to choose!’ She laughed softly. ‘Oh, I know it was mean of me but the woman was such a snob – besides, you never know, Mother might like them and coax Father into footing the bill. Serve him right, the miserable swine.’ Her face laughed but her eyes betrayed the pain he had caused her.

‘I always knew you’d be a handful,’ Marty chastised her, but warmly.

It then occurred to him that he had yet to acquire a much more necessary item than the hat and, hence, they went to visit the nearest jeweller.

By the time they had lunched, the occasion for which they yearned was almost arrived. Soliciting two strangers along the way to bear witness, Marty led his beloved to the register office.

In the slippery heat of the afternoon, reclining close beside him in their rumpled bed, after their finest, most passionate, most spiritual coupling to date, Etta leaned on her elbow, gazed into her beloved husband’s green eyes and said, tenderly profuse, ‘I’ve never in my entire life felt such happiness.’

Marty wholeheartedly agreed. He was a happy sort of person anyway, but for him too this elation was something special. Cupping the back of her hot skull he caught her lower lip between his, drawing it in and caressing it with his tongue.

Breaking free to recoup her breath, Etta threw herself back, stretching and purring. ‘Oh, how wonderful to be free of that tyrant! To do as I please, to know he can never dominate me again.’ Then she hurled herself back at Marty.

In the knowledge that he would have to go out and earn a living tomorrow, they lay entwined in love for the rest of that afternoon, undisturbed until a dray wagon came to deliver, whereupon the loud rumble of barrels being transferred from pavement to cellar caused them to rise and dress and Etta to tidy her hair. Pulling two wooden chairs to the window, they sat side by side to watch for a while, then, after the drayman had gone, just to lift their eyes beyond the roofs of the slum dwellings to the glorious sunlit day, and to smile contentedly at each other.

Had the position of the sun not informed him that it was almost time for tea, Marty’s grumbling stomach would have done. Still, he sat for a while longer, smiling at his bride and waiting.

Eventually she rubbed the knees beneath her silken gown. ‘Well…shall we dine?’

He brightened. ‘I was beginning to think my new wife lived on air!’

She laughed lightly, but made no move to rise.

After another short period of waiting, Marty prompted her. ‘So, are you going to get it then?’

‘I?’ Etta looked astonished.

‘Well it won’t appear on its own, will it?’ he said, amused.

She looked nonplussed – yes, it usually did.

He watched the incomprehension spread across her face, indeed, shared it.

After some indecision, she lamented, ‘I wish I could have brought Blanche, she’d know what to do.’ Then, before he could broach the distinct possibility that Etta might have to look after herself, she announced brightly, ‘No matter! We’ll eat at a restaurant until we can hire someone.’